Bitter sweet
by Mad-Dog3
Summary: Updated! parts 5 - 9 added. A bit of angst towards the end of P9, rating changes to PG-13. Tell me what you think. If it SUCKS plz. tell me. Sorry, my settings were messed up - I now accept anony. reviews. Yay!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: All characters were created and are owned by Dick Wolf.  
  
A/N: This is my first fanfic.your reviews are much needed and appreciated.  
  
Part One  
  
There's a rustling of papers coming from the kitchen down the hall. She glances despairingly at the clock, 2:21 am glowing brightly in the dark as she slide out from beneath the sheets. Blindly groping for the light switch; it's then that she recognizes the familiar scent of old spice.  
  
"James??? James! Are you here? Where are you going?"  
  
"Out.just leave me alone. Okay." He says with a hint of annoyance.  
  
Noticing the blood stains on his shirt, she gasps; "Oh my god.what happened? Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. Now go back to bed." Realizing his answer wasn't going to satisfying her, he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. He was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but she was already suspicious. Damn. Resting his head on top of hers, tears trickle down his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, babe." 'Snap' "I'm sorry." he mutters. Before leaving, he gently positions the body at the base of the stairs. 


	2. Part Two

Part Two - Two days later  
  
Uniforms swarmed the small house by the time Detectives Eames and Goren had arrived.  
  
"Detectives. Over here. Female, 30 - 35, names Katie Philips" calls an unidentified officer.  
  
Before they reached the victim, the aroma of a decaying body quickly overcame their senses. Eames coveres her mouth and nose with her jacket sleeve. The ME had just finished up, noticing the two detectives, he dryly says, "If you're interested the cause of the death - broken neck, probably fell down the stairs."  
  
Goren had already positioned himself over the body, turning the victim's head side to side. "I, I don't think she fell down the stairs."  
  
"Don't tell me you need to be 5 inches from her face to tell me that she's dead." Eames blurts.  
  
Goren ignored his partners sarcasm and continued examining her face, neck and arms.  
  
"Eames, do notice anything wrong with the vic?"  
  
"Other than the fact she's dead.no. why?"  
  
"It's just that.well her neck is broken, but when you take a tumble down a flight a stairs you'd find abrasions on the body, where trauma occurred. And there's no abrasions anywhere on the body. Her robe is tide, and both slippers on her feet. Officer?"  
  
A lanky, balding man, walks over. "Officer Harris." he extends his right hand, to the detective. Goren, not fond of formalities just nods in acknowledgement at the officer.  
  
"Um, was there any visible signs of a break-in? Or a robbery?"  
  
"ohhh jesus." stopping in mid sentence, to glance over at Eames. "Does he always get THAT close to the vics?"  
  
"Yep. Would you rather be the one doing the honors?" Retorts Eames, seemingly unfazed by her partners antics.  
  
Goren oblivious to officer Harris' obvious disgust, tries again. "Officer?"  
  
The half nauseous officer, shakes his head 'no' before turning the opposite direction to get some air.  
  
They both turn to go upstairs. As they walked down the hallway they passed numerous pieces of artwork on the wall.  
  
"She had good taste" comments Eames.  
  
Goren takes a right into the first bedroom and flips the light switch on. A queen sized bed, night stand, with a lamp and telephone, and a small closet off to the left. The bed showed signs of being previously slept in. He walks over to the window and pulls the shades up, to check to see if it's locked.  
  
"It's locked."  
  
"I would hope so..." Laments Eames.  
  
"Eames, it doesn't make sense."  
  
"She fell, broke her neck, and now she's dead. Sounds pretty simple to me."  
  
"You still think she fell."  
  
"You don't? The possibility is there. She could have heard something, the wind, maybe she took a wrong turn when she got up, tripped even."  
  
"How? The hallway is narrow and carpeted, no pets, or foreign objects were obstructing her path to the bathroom. She could have put her arms up and felt her whole way there, slipping on carpet." He stops realizing Eames had probably gone back downstairs to scope the rest of the perimeter.  
  
Back downstairs, Goren weaves his way through the officers, towards the kitchen. A coffee pot quietly gurgles in the compact kitchen. Goren heads towards the sink, where a half empty coffee cups sits. Cold. Sniffs it and puts it down. He notices the coffee maker still on. And turns it off. The fridge light is also on, he pauses, shuts it. Then opens the fridge door. Eames walks in and watches her partner go through the contents of the refrigerator haphazardly.  
  
She looks down and whispers, "Hungry?"  
  
Goren quizzically looks at his partner and responds with the slightest smile; "Nope, I had my snickers before coming in."  
  
Before she had the chance to rebut, he had cleared everything out of the fridge and had moved on to the freezer. He swiftly spread all the contents; an assortment of molding fruits, vegetables, bread, sandwich meat, ketchup, beer, soda, frozen meat, and fat-free Popsicles  
  
on the small table.  
  
Eames, wishing she had taken the time to consume something more than coffee this morning, waits for her partner to explain why they're staring at food.  
  
"Okay, what am I missing here?"  
  
" I don't know yet." 


	3. Part Three

Part Three  
  
Police Plaza One  
  
Back at the station, Goren heads for his desk while Eames makes a bee line for the coffee maker. Goren sifts through the pictures of the crime scene. Hoping he'd see something that he missed earlier. Eames returns with two cups of coffee. Seeing that her partner is completely absorbed in the photos; she sets one on her partner's desk. Goren looks up at her, absently starts scratching his head and mumbles a "Thanks." Takes a sip. Then turns his attention back to the photos scattered before him. Then slumps further in his chair. Moments later he regains his posture and places his left hand in front of his mouth and stares at the steaming coffee on his desk. Eames returned to her desk for the second time that morning with a cup of coffee in hand. Only to find her partner intensely looking at the cup of coffee she brought him over. She hesitates whether or not to ask if he's okay. Especially when he looks like he's trying to burn a whole through the cup.  
  
His train of thought broken the beckoning sound of , "Bobby, Bobby?". She never calls me by my first name.  
  
"I guess that Snickers bar this morning didn't cut it, huh?"  
  
"Eames." nothing. Not a single wise-crack came to mind. She outwitted me.  
  
"You know Bobby, I'd wait around all day for you; but I don't think Deakins would be as gracious." She replies as she points in the direction of Captain Deakins office. Damn. She did it again. Goren swirls around only to see Deakins standing in his office doorway impatiently tapping his foot.  
  
Inside Captain James Deakins' Office  
  
Goren shuts the door behind him and waits for Eames to take a seat.  
  
Deakins looks at both of his detectives; "Alright I need a status report." He says sternly.  
  
Goren slouches in his seat, half listening to Eames and at the same time counting the tiles on the ceiling. Deakins waits for Eames to finish, and turn his attention to Goren who is no longer staring at the ceiling but playing with his pants cuff.  
  
"Detective Goren. Do you have anything you'd like to add?"  
  
"Uh, no. Eames pretty much covered it."  
  
Deakins, remained expressionless. He was not moved or surprised by Gorens lack of participation (answer). Hell, it's his usual answer whenever I get his ass in here for a status report, he thought.  
  
"Eames mentioned you don't think the victim - Katie Philips; fell?"  
  
"No, sir. I believe the possibility of her falling down the stairs is remote. The fall was to clean. There's no evidence to support she actually fell down the stairs." Goren bluntly responds.  
  
"Except that fact the vic had a broken neck and is dead." Eames quickly interjects.  
  
"Okay so her neck is broken, but the position her body was in. Is, is - wrong." He opens his brown zipper book and takes out pictures of the victim laying at the bottom the staircase.  
  
"See here and here." Pointing to the victims exposed back and legs. "According to the ME's report there were no abrasions on the body, defensive wounds or signs of contusions forming."  
  
"Maybe she doesn't bruise easily. Drugs?" asks Deakins. Goren shakes his head in disagreement.  
  
"The tox screen came back negative." Replies Eames.  
  
"Pushed?"  
  
"The sergeant canvassed the entire block, questioned neighbors, there were no signs of a B and E. - nothing came up. At this point an accidental death seems the most plausible. " Eames flatly replies.  
  
Deakins who is on the verge of getting sick from watching Goren pace back and forth asks; "So what do YOU think happened?"  
  
Goren who had stopped pacing, suddenly announces; "coffee." And proceeds to dart out and slams the door behind him.  
  
"What the hell..?" Mutters Deakins, confused by what just transpired,  
  
Eames just as uncertain as the captain about her partner's intent; only manages a shrug. Even through the closed door Deakins and Eames hear Goren's booming voice.  
  
"Does anyone know where the cream is?"  
  
"In the mini-fridge." Shouts another detective.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
In between Goren's trips, to and from the captains office, EADA Carver had entered the room. Eames smiles at the EADA. Carver in turn nods and takes the vacant seat next to Eames. Carver looks to Deakin for answers about what Goren is up too. The captain shrugs and takes a seat behind his desk. Two trips later, Goren sets the last cup of coffee on the captain's desk with a pile of photos. Then methodically begins to pin the photos on the bulletin board.  
  
"Juries like visual, detective. But I don't see the validity of the ones here." Fires Carver. As he waves his hands at the posted photos.  
  
"Just look at the pictures." Fires back Goren.  
  
"No ice-cream. A health nut." Observes Eames  
  
"Exactly. The fridge was abstinent of any dairy products."  
  
"Detective that proves, what?"  
  
"I getting to that, CONSELOR. Look. The cup of coffee we found in the Katie Philips kitchen."  
  
Eames abruptly cuts him off, "wasn't black. She had a visitor."  
  
"Detectives, I'm still not seeing the whole picture."  
  
Goren restrains himself from making a comment he'd most likely regret, exhales loudly, and points at the four cups on the desk. "The first cup on your left is regular black, regular with cream, decaf and decaf with cream. The ones with cream, the color changes. And if you let it set long enough the cream starts to collect at the top." Comments Goren.  
  
"The coffee we found definitely had cream or milk in it." Eames replies.  
  
"Do you know definitively that Ms. Philip is indeed lactose intolerant.?" inquires EADA Carver.  
  
"Yes, I contacted Ms. Philips mother who said it runs in the family." Goren replies with an irritated tone.  
  
"Now why would person who is lactose-intolerant be putting cream in their coffee?" asks Deakins in dismay.  
  
"What are you suggesting, detective? Suicide - by cream?"  
  
Goren hands Eames the ME report. She flips through and pauses, "This is interesting, the ME found a half digest chicken leg, green salad and no traces of any disaccharide. Meaning she was probably extremely L-I-T."  
  
"Suicide? No way, even if it was (suicide) by 'cream'... why go to trouble of breaking your neck too??? It was a good 15 feet to the stairs and then another 3 feet going up. Being lactose intolerant, figure in the considerable amount she digested she would have gone into anaphylactic shock immediately in the kitchen. The furthest she could have gotten, I'd estimate - half way down the hallway." Explains Goren.  
  
"I agree with my partner. Suicide isn't the likely cause here. She was as healthy as a horse, no heart disease, low cholesterol, and sodium levels. Either she took a night walk path to death or someone tried awfully hard to make it appear like she fell down the stairs."  
  
"Too hard." Replies Deakins.  
  
"This proves nothing." Argues EADA Carver.  
  
"On the contrary, the theory supports that we're dealing a homicide not a suicide." Deakins firmly states.  
  
"Notify me when you have a case." Carver responds as he gets up from his chair. Goren as agile as he is; reaches the door first. Before opening the door he meets Carver's eyes and softly replies; "You'll be first to know." 


	4. Part Four

Disclaimer: All character belong to the notorious Dick Wolf.  
  
A/N: A HUGE thanks to all that have reviewed. Your opinions mean a lot to me.  
  
Aingeal - I hope you don't mind me using 'cockroach' as a name. If you do, let me know ASAP and I'll change it. I was struggling to come up with a good name and after reading 'Till death do us Part' (which by the way is *nicely written) it (cockroach) fit perfectly.  
  
Part Four Undisclosed building somewhere in NYC.  
  
James quickly assumes an erect position on the old couch after hearing the door giggle. A headache still lingers from the heavy drinking done the previous night. He lets a few minute pass to let the haziness wear off. Then draws his gun from his waistband before shouting;  
  
"WHO is it?!"  
  
After kicking scattered beer cans out of the way, he hears a muffled voice through the door, "Dude, it's ME. Ya know, Cockroach?"  
  
James loudly exhales as he slowly opens the door. "I thought I told you not to come here."  
  
"No, ya told me not to contact you. Like through phone calls." Cockroach confidently replies.  
  
"You dumb-ass..what the hell do you think, 'do not contact me' means?"  
  
Cockroach sensing he has done something wrong, frowns. "Well, umm, you told me over the phone not to contact you. I just thought, that, well, I ain't suppose to call you. I thought I could still visit you."  
  
James knew Cockroach's intentions were good, but the fact he kept screwing up made him a liability. "Well are you gonna get in here?" he asks as he opens the door a bit wider.  
  
Cockroach nods and nervously takes a few steps inside the apartment. Still unsure of what to say he resorts to looking at the floor. "Man, I messed up again, didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah. You did."  
  
Cockroach not being that bright, tries again. " I'm sorry, I tried not to.Look at the bright side, I brought ya some beer. Top notch stuff, not the cheap stuff ya usually drink."  
  
Silence.  
  
James dumbfounded by Cockroach's' lack of intelligence, does what any man would do in the given situation; accepts the beer. "Not the cheap stuff you say? Give it hear. You knucklehead."  
  
At the sound of his voice, Cockroach instantly brightens and quickly hands his idol, role model, god. the beer.  
  
"Are you gonna take me out again? I wanna see more." Pleads Cockroach.  
  
Before responding James thought very carefully about what to say next. Out of the corner of his eye he sees cockroach sitting on the couch laughing at the cartoons on the TV. Young and stupid, what a dangerous combination, he thought. He knew keeping him around would be a risk. But he had to give the kid some credit he knew how to get himself out of jam. He knew all to well how crushed he would be if he deserted him. "Cockroach. Come here."  
  
"Yeah? So can I come?"  
  
Slowly he delivers four of the most painful words this kid will ever hear coming from him, "Maybe some other time."  
  
Cockroach becomes deadly silent. "When, then?"  
  
"I don't know. Later"  
  
"Later? Like tomorrow, or Saturday?" the optimism in his voice gradually fading.  
  
James' emotions start raging and mind starts to race. I can't do it, I refuse to break this kids hopes. I can't be like *him*. I refuse to let myself turn into my bastard father. Damn it! Why can't I, why, why.can' I just eliminate the problem like I always have. "I DON'T KNOW. Ok, so drop it." He says icily.  
  
Trembling like a five year old he spits, "but, but, you said..ya promised."  
  
"Shut up! Don't you get it? You're an incompetent buffoon!"  
  
"ha..haha, you said buffoon. Like, like in Stinky and the Brain®." Cajoles Cockroach.  
  
It dawns on James that he didn't understand a word he said other than 'shut up'. Maybe this can work. "Cockroach, I've changed my mind, let's go to the boiler room a few blocks over and on the way back we'll stop by the Bodega.I'm outta cream."  
  
Cockroach happy he gets to go (with him), enthusiastically runs to door like a dog in dire need of going outside to piss.  
  
***Please R&R all comments, negative or positive are appreciated. Chapter 5 coming soon; where/when it all comes to a full circle. 


	5. Part Five

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Dick Wolf.  
  
A/N: To those who have reviewed - thank you times a million. This is my lame attempt at being humorous. It's dry humor at best. This chapter doesn't really tie it all together but I promise it will eventually. This chapter is bit longer.Read and Review.  
  
Part Five Police Plaza One MCS  
  
8:20: A fresh cup of coffee in hand, Eames anxiously waits for the elevator. Why am I so impatient especially in the morning? I'm the one who fends off Goren long enough so the perps have a chance to tell their story before he eats them alive. Yet.every morning the sound of annoying alarm blares sharply at 5 am. Every morning I will myself not to touch the snooze button. Imbedded deep in my sub-consciousness I want to get up. Every morning for the last two years I have the same internal argument. A part of me has a dire need to feel the satisfaction of being seated at my desk when my partner walks in. To see the priceless expression on his face. Or to point and laugh. To prove I don't a life outside of work either. Scratch that one. No, to be seen as. equal. On the flips I want to sink back into unconsciousness. Sleep always wins out. However I have yet to touch the snooze button. Although every week I have to buy a new alarm clock.  
  
8:22: The anticipating sound of the elevator dings and breaks Eames' train of the though. "Finally."  
  
It was becoming rather apparent her morning wasn't going to get better; squeezed between 3 rather large officers in the back of elevator, Eames tries to relax. Relax what a novel idea, maybe if I relaxed I wouldn't have the beginnings of an ulcer. 8:26. wonderful! 10 to 1, I'm going to be late. If Goren didn't arrive so damn early ALL the time, no one would even notice if I walked in a few minutes late. Gotta find some leverage.  
  
Exactly an hour after arriving, Detective Goren was bored. Which struck him as strange; he had gone through all the morning motions; shuffling around paperwork, rearranging all his pens and pencils, and made his usual phone calls. He even brewed fresh coffee for his fellow colleagues. At that point, he knew it was bad. Even his colleagues took note, of the detective's peculiar behavior. They'd come to expect crazy, or just south of psychopathic behavior from him but the display of (such) domestic behavior, was beyond comprehension.  
  
8:29: The elevator doors had just opened. Eames pushes her way through the mass of people in the elevator.  
  
Reclined in his yellow chair, and his eyes closed, Goren hears the resonating sound of a woman's shoes rapidly approaching. A smile slowly spread across his face and sofltly mumbles; "Eames...is late."  
  
8:31: Eames sprints the short distance from the elevator to the main room door. Her face still flush from the sprint, she stops to straighten out her suit, but something catches her eye. Her all-knowing, partner, aka Mr. Punctuality, was asleep - on the job. With that in mind, a small smile creeps across her face. I think I found my leverage.  
  
8:32: Confidently Eames enters the main floor and walks towards her desk. Goren, still slumped in his chair, with his eyes closed, takes a deep breath and catches a whiff of Eames perfume.  
  
Sending his senses into overtime to identify the smell. Sweet, with a slight citrus twist, 'Chance' - by Channel, ironic how fashion can imitate life. Content with his final analysis; Goren is first to initiate a conversation. "Eames. You're."  
  
Eames deliberately cuts him off. "What?"  
  
Noticing her flush cheeks, Goren chooses his next few words carefully. Casually he asks; " Hey, Eames. I don't have my watch today, do you have the time?"  
  
Eames quietly curses under her breathe. "I'm kind of busy." Pointing at the stack of reports in front of her. "Doesn't your cell phone show the time?"  
  
Goren could tell she was eluding his question, switching gears, he boyishly smiles in embarrassment before responding, "I left it at my apartment."  
  
"Smart. real smart, partner." Eames says agitatedly. If only Goren knew how much she didn't need this.. "Alright I was." before finishing - Goren's phone rings.  
  
"Goren." Knowing all to well she would use this as an out, he shakes his index finger. Letting her know she wasn't off the hook yet.  
  
"Alright. Thank you." Goren says before hanging up.  
  
"What was that about?"  
  
"That was Craig from latent. Informing me they've examined all the evidence. And it's all ours."  
  
"You called days ago, they just now finish?"  
  
"Yeah. They got backed-up."  
  
Deakins quietly announces himself with a deep rumble in his throat. Both detectives quickly turn their attention to him.  
  
"Jennifer from CSU just called, and said they found something you two might find interesting. Another thing she mentioned; is you owe them big time for it. And Eames, try to be time."  
  
With that, Deakins turns to leave. Eames watches Deakins return to his office, before venting, "A measly 2 and half minutes. What do we owe CSU for?"  
  
"I heard that, detective!" hollers Deakins at no one in particular. I love my job.  
  
Goren refuses to make eye contact her; and rushes off to grab both their coats. Returns and offers Eames her coat, and puts on his. "I put in a request, earlier this morning for CSU to go back to look for evidence to support my theory. Oh, and you were a little on the late side."  
  
"2 minutes! You did what?! You asked CSU to go dumpster diving?! And they did it? Willingly? What did you offer in exchange? A date?" she says sarcastically.  
  
Flashing a boyish smile at her; "Not exactly.but close." Quickly changing the subject he adds; "Do you want to stop for coffee before going to lab or do your want to go directly there?"  
  
"Coffee." And proceeds to put on her jacket and dumps her now cold coffee in the trash.  
  
At Goren's 


	6. Part Six

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Dick Wolf A/N: If you hate it, love it, or are confused by it - let me know. Every bit of feedback is wanted. I tried to stay true to places in NY and the background of the characters (hobbies, tastes and interests) If any of you are wondering 'where's the drama?' it's near.  
  
Part Six Latent  
  
On the way to the lab, Goren silently vowed not to bring up Eames' late start. Later. He thought, when I'm well out of her jabbing range.  
  
The ride there was smooth. After grabbing fresh coffee complements of Goren. Eames began to relax. Although the silence in the car made her uneasy. Usually her partner is ranting about something. Not a good sign she thought. But pure, beautiful silence. God, look what you've done to me, Goren! Pushing the last thought to the back of her mind she relishes in the tranquility.  
  
Pulling into the parking lot Eames glances over at Goren. Who has his head rested against the window, Eames notices for the first time the dark rings around his eyes. Must not be sleeping well. He could sleep in an extra hour.  
  
Goren without meaning to had drifted off. In the midst of a dream. A dream? Couldn't be. The voice was too familiar. He hears a soft but sweet voice calling his name, "Bobby. Bobby. Wake up."  
  
Eames sighs in exasperation, gets out of the car and slams her door shut.  
  
The vibration from the slamming door jolts Goren awake. Blinking a few time, he then hears a knock on the window. Startled, he turns to sees Eames outside trying not to laugh at the situation. Goren quickly collects himself and grabs his notebook before getting out.  
  
After shutting the door he turns to Eames and asks; "Ready?"  
  
"Always. Did you enjoy your power nap?"  
  
"No comment." With that, Goren opens the door for his partner and follows her inside.  
  
****************************  
  
Craig spots Bobby immediately. Waving him over, shouts "Bobby! Over her."  
  
Eames immediately raises an eyebrow after hearing Craig address her partner as 'Bobby'.  
  
Goren makes his way to Craig and shakes his hand. "Bobby, sorry about not getting back to you sooner, it's been a mad house."  
  
Craig, embarrassed because he didn't take note of Eames earlier. Turns red. "Detective Eames. What a pleasure. I didn't see you come in. Did you come with Bo-, Detective Goren?"  
  
"Craig. Indeed I did." Noticing Craig's face turn different shades of red she changes the subject. "So what do you have for us.?"  
  
"uhhh, oh yeah. The coffee mug Bo-, your 'partner' requested, I dustd for fingerprints. Came up empty. Not even a partial. However I did test the coffee and there was cream in it, it was umm just let me find it.."  
  
Turning to his left away from Eames he starts digging through a pile of papers. Knowing Bobby was there, through clenched teeth he whispers. "why didn't you tell me Eames was with you?"  
  
"Smooth. Very smooth. I didn't think it mattered. Why does she bother you?"  
  
Craig frantically continues his search for the correct document, and mumbles, "yes, I mean, no. I mean." out of relief he shouts, "HA! I found it."  
  
Reading from the paper; "The cream is generic and is used at food chains."  
  
"Great. There's only what, a few thousands of em' in New York." Replies Eames  
  
"True, but Jennifer from CSU found this." Craig holds up a evidence bag with an empty container of half and half inside; clearly marked, Caserta Vecchia, NY.  
  
"Did it have any finger prints on it?" ask Eames.  
  
"As a matter of fact Detective. I found a five point match on the thumb print and a partial index finger. I ran it against the system - the thumb print matched a Jasmine Childers and the other print, came up blank."  
  
"What was Ms. Childers picked up for?" chimes Eames.  
  
"Let me guess, prostitution." replies Goren.  
  
Craig shoots Eames a look, of 'how did he know?' Eames looks to her partner for an explanation.  
  
"She's a waitress.there, at the Caserta Vecchia. I've eaten there a couple times. they have excellent veal. She's very confident of her sexuality and self and isn't afraid to flaunt it."  
  
Satisfied with his explanation Eames smiles and points to poor Craig. "I guess he's not used to your 'know it all' air."  
  
Goren rests his hand on Craig's shoulder, "I think that about wraps it up. Right ?"  
  
"Yeah , Yeah that's it." Replies a numb Craig.  
  
As Eames begins walking to the door. Craig grabs Goren arm, "Bobby. Jennifer said something about Friday nights working the best."  
  
"Really. I didn't picture her as T.G.I.F girl."  
  
Eames had made it clear to door before realizing Goren wasn't with; her overheard bits and pieces of the conversation he was having with Craig.  
  
After finishing his chat with Craig. Goren immediately spots Eames by the door and within a few stride is by her side.  
  
"What was that about?" inquires Eames.  
  
"What?" Goren replies dumbly.  
  
"Your little conversation with Craig."  
  
"Oh that. Poker."  
  
"Poker. Huh? Collecting on a debt?" teases Eames.  
  
Not wanting to explore the issue any further Goren puts the focus back on the case. "Hey do want to go for drive?"  
  
"Sure. Where too?"  
  
"How about grabbing some lunch. I'm starved." 


	7. Part Seven

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Dick Wolf A/N: R&R  
  
Part Seven Undisclosed building somewhere in NYC  
  
"Damn it! I forgot the cream!" Shouts an angry James.  
  
Cockroach digs in his pack and pulls out three half and half containers. "Here. I got these from that restaurant you took me too."  
  
James angrily takes them from him. "You took these?! What did I tell you about stealing?!"  
  
Cockroach confused by the sudden explosion of anger, takes a few steps back. "You told me stealing BIG stuff was wrong. But it's just cream. And I remembered you like cream with your coffee, you told me that too when we were at that house awhile ago."  
  
Half listening to Cockroach trail off about cream. James thoughts begin to roam; he knew there was no sense in getting mad at the kid. He's just so damn stupid. Cockroach jabbering breaks his train of thought.  
  
"James?"  
  
"Huh, what were you saying, Cockroach?" James calmly replies.  
  
Cockroach shell shocked by his 180 turnaround, lets out a nervous laugh, "All I can remember is that you were mad at me for stealing the cream. Are ya still mad at me for that?"  
  
"No. Cockroach I ain't. Thanks for the cream. No-more stealing. Understand?"  
  
Cockroach bobs his head up and down in acknowledgment.  
  
James hears the click of the TV as he tends to his coffee. He stops and looks at the container of cream in his hand labeled; Caserta Vecchia, N.Y. A strange feeling washes over him, he knew something was wrong. He didn't know *what* just yet though.  
  
"Cockroach. We need to talk. Now." 


	8. Part 8&9

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Dick Wolf. - What's new right? A/N: Because Part 8 turned out to be so short, I merged Part 9 with it. I hope this isn't to much of a inconvenience to anyone. Read and Review. Beware of the language. PLEASE READ and REVIEW.  
  
Part 8 Subway Sandwiches and Salads 1440 Broadway, NY  
  
Inside the small restaurant the two detectives sat at a booth and ate in silence. Nearly finished with his pastrami on rye sandwich, Goren breaks the awkward silence. Before speaking he swipes a napkin from underneath Eames elbow and wipes his face, "You wouldn't happen to have any anti-acids on you?"  
  
Eames at the time had her mouth full of tuna and shakes her head no.  
  
"Terrific. I left mine in my desk drawer."  
  
Washing down the remainder of her sandwich with a diet coke, Eames suggests; "Why don't you go next door and buy some? I don't really want to have to listen to you digest your food all the way back to the plaza."  
  
"Hmm. I didn't think of that. Thanks." Once again flashing his signature boyish smile at her.  
  
"Go." Insists Eames.  
  
"I'm going. Meet you back at the car?"  
  
"Yep. Now GO. Before I decide I don't want to drive anymore.." Eames dryly states. He was out the door before she was able to finish her sentence.  
  
***********************  
  
Back out at the car Eames sat with a grin on her face in the passenger seat. She knew Goren would see her as soon as he walked out of the mini- mart.  
  
Goren feeling much better after swallowing two tablets, heads for the car. He was beside himself when he saw Eames seating comfortably in the passenger side with (her) eyes closed.  
  
Eames briefly took note of the look on Goren's face when he stepped out of the mini-mart. It was priceless.  
  
Goren was standing right by the passenger door. Waiting. His eyes willing her to move. Pleading.  
  
Just a few minutes longer. Eames thought. He's going to break. Do NOT laugh. A minute or so passed by. Thinking she had won she opens her eyes, only to be disappointed. Goren was no where to be seen. Thinking he's outside still, she tries to open the door. Nothing. Great. The door is jammed. Discouraged, she slides over to the drivers side to try that door. But pauses to do something she hasn't done since grammar school - and begins to pray; it opens so she doesn't make an ass out of herself. Suddenly Goren opens the passenger side door and slides in.  
  
"Hey thanks, for your suggestion. I feel better already. Ready?"  
  
He got me. Eames opens her mouth to say something, but scratches the idea Because payback is a bitch. and starts the ignition.  
  
"Back to the crime scene?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
**************************** Part 9 Back at the Crime Scene One week later  
  
While pulling into the driveway Eames checks her side view mirror and notices an unmarked van parked parallel to the driveway.  
  
On his way to the front door Goren slaps on a pair of prophylactic gloves. Upon opening the door he instantly hears commotion in the kitchen. Figuring it's CSU digging around. He proceed down the hallway to the kitchen. He unclips his gun holster for safety.  
  
From the hallway, he calls out; "Jennifer? Are you still here? It's Detective Goren from MCS."  
  
No response.  
  
Waiting a few more seconds before entering he detects a faint voice speaking.  
  
"Don't you forget what we talked about, kid. Be strong, and don't let anyone tell you you're a nothing.."  
  
With meat cleaver in his hand he nods in understanding.  
  
Still whispering, "On the count on three. 1.2."  
  
Outside in the car Eames watches the suspicious van, and thoroughly surprised by the change in weather. From partly cloudy to sunny.  
  
Goren had barely taken two steps in the small kitchen before being pummeled to the floor.  
  
"Auuuhhhh.!!!"  
  
Outside Eames heard her partners cry and drawing her gun before entering. She jiggles the door handle - locked. After shooting the door knob, she cautiously enters. And proceeds up the stairs.  
  
"Shut up! I don't want to hurt you." Cockroach frantically says as he grips the knife tightly.  
  
Goren squirms underneath Cockroaches' pin. He tries to push him off but is temporarily blinded by the glare off the hovering cleaver.  
  
Cockroach realizes he's losing control of the situation, panics and blindly starts swinging the knife at Goren.  
  
"Auuuhhhhhh!!!"  
  
"Bobby." Eames runs back down the stairs towards the kitchen.  
  
Seeing the red pools of blood starting to form around Goren, Cockroach pauses to look at his work. "I think you're gonna die soon." He murmurs.  
  
Gasping for air Goren mouths "G-o t-o h-e-l-l, M-o-t-h-e-r f-.."  
  
Cockroach's moment of glory trance is broken by Eames' incessant hollering. "Bobby! Bobby!"  
  
Cockroach pulls the cleaver out of Goren causing him to groan and dashes for the door.  
  
With her gun drawn Eames, turns the corner to the kitchen, and sees Goren on the floor gasping for air. Running over to him, she props his head on her knee and checks his pulse.  
  
"Faint... Bobby? Can you hear me? Where the hell is the back up?!?!" she yells.  
  
Between sharp breaths of air, Goren groans, "E-a-m-e-s, I."  
  
"Bobby. shhh, don't talk. You're going to be okay."  
  
Goren coughs a little and puts on his best wry smile; "Y-o-u nev' cal me B- o-b-b-y..."  
  
"You've pick one hell of a time to be a smart ass, partner." scoffs Eames.  
  
Eames hastily tears open his shirt to find (out) where all the blood is coming from. She sees at least 2 stab wounds and applies pressure to them. The blood pooling around her feet seemed to be growing faster by the second. "Hang on, Bobby. Just hang on a little longer. Help is on the way."  
  
Goren's chest made a crackling/gurgling sound with ever breath. Not a good sign at all Eames thought. His chest began to rise and fall lease frequently. A mix of emotions shot through Eames, fear, anger, sorrow.  
  
Head propped against his partner's knee with her hands placed firmly on his chest. As a stray tear trickles down, all Goren could do was think. Given the circumstances; in which these moments may possibly be my last as part of the living, I guess I should be praying...I never was a very good Catholic.Eames is reeking with fear... Hell I'm scared. It's odd, at first all I wanted to was die because I was excruciating pain. But now. as I struggle to breathe, all I want to do is.live.  
  
Eames voice raising with every word. "Bobby, don't you die on me. Don't you dare die on me! Not now!!! Damn it, Bobby. Breath!!!"  
  
Watching his eyes lids flutter and finally close. Eames knew her partner had lost consciousness. 


End file.
